Of Tongues and Dares
by Ghost Hand
Summary: Malik finds Altaïr and his suggestive teasing insufferable, ridiculous, and a little hot. But he can't let him know that; Altaïr's his best friend! During a video game marathon the power cuts out, forcing them to find new ways of entertainment. Modern AU. Lemon chapter is up!
1. Chapter 1

**Hola, peeps! Yes, I'm into Assassin's Creed, if you didn't bother to read my profile or couldn't tell. My girlfriend xXRainbowSkittlesXx got me into it, and of course AltxMal. The two of us are having a bit of a war here. See, I showed her the Dane Cook joke about working at Burger King, so we usually share a laugh whenever pickles are mentioned and continue the joke (if you don't know what it is, look it up on youtube; it's important to understand the rest of this). She had the idea to make a truth or dare-themed AltxMal fic, and when she stepped out of the room I trolled her story by typing a scene involving the joke (which you can find in here). When she got back, she cut my part out and sent it to me, saying it was too ridiculous for what she had planned. One thing led to another and now we've challenged each other to see whose fic is better. So, if you read 'em both (if she ever puts hers up), vote for your fave!**

**Warnings: **Language, minor suggestive themes. Next chapter will have all the naughty bits, and I'll change the rating. ;)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Assassin's Creed! If I did, it would be a miracle if Desmond was born! ;D

* * *

With the skies a dark grey and rain pouring down like it was trying to flood the world, it was of course the perfect day to stay inside and play video games. To the extent of travelling outside to get to said video games.

Well, actually, that is a pretty stupid idea. But Altaïr came, nonetheless, to his college buddy's apartment almost halfway across town to do just that. Malik said he had agreed only because he would be terribly bored otherwise, though he wouldn't say that it was because he found his best friend infuriatingly attractive, and although they did more arguing than anything else, it was somewhat endearing, not to mention (ever) that he found him actually kinda really cool.

The taller man showed up with drenched to the bone. He looked like a drowned puppy, except happier.

'_Pathetic… yet adorable,' _Malik thought to himself. Until he noticed the accumulating puddle at his visitor's feet. "Hey! You're dripping all over my carpet!"

Altaïr pushed past him, leaving a wet handprint on his side. "Can't help it, bro. It's coming down hard out there." He snickered at the euphemism.

Malik frowned, rubbing at the spot with his good arm- really, his only arm. "Whatever. Towels are in the closet, and I guess you can borrow some of my clothes. There's no way in hell I'm letting you track around my place like that."

"Aw, you mean you actually care about me?" Altaïr looked over his shoulder, hands pressed to his cheeks and butt sticking out, then batted his eyes. "Don't worry, Sweet Cheeks, I promise not to get sick."

"Hardly," Malik scoffed. "I'm more worried about my floors than your sorry ass."

Altaïr shrugged, grabbing a few towels from the closet and heading for Malik's room. "Riiight. Well, Mr. Insensitive, try to hold yourself from peeking in on my _choice_ ass while I change."

Had he two hands, Malik would've doubly flipped him off. "You definitely don't need to worry about that," he called to the other's retreating back. He plopped himself down on his old hand-me-down couch and started rifling through his game collection, pulling out their favorites. However, now he couldn't get the image of Altaïr stripping naked out of his mind, and the wet slapping sounds of soaked clothes being removed coming from the next room didn't help at all.

'_Jesus, what's wrong with me? Why, of all people to have an insane crush on, does it have to be _that_ guy?'_ Malik shook his head at the thought. _'It's not like I could tell him, anyway. How does one even begin to confess something like that to their best friend?'_

He shoved the thought to the back of his mind, deciding it better untouched. After a torturous five minutes, Altaïr came out and flopped onto the couch. Seeing him wearing his clothes- not to mention the slight size difference had them hugging his form in a few places- caused Malik to blush and turn his head. Distractedly he gestured to the array of games he'd laid out.

"Pick your poison."

The bum smirked. "Don't mind if I do." He waved his hand like a magician over the cases before selecting one and going over to pop it into the console. Malik kept his eyes averted lest they wander over that choice ass, which was currently shaking in tune with Altaïr's humming as he set everything up. He sat next to Malik, handed him a controller, and swung his legs over the others to push on the opposite armrest.

"Hey, dickface! Feet down."

"Nah, I like them where they're at," Altaïr chuckled.

Malik scowled as he set his controller in his lap. "That wasn't a request." He grabbed a notebook off the coffee table, rolled it up, and smacked his friend on the top of the head. "Down boy!"

The other attempted to push his arm away, but Malik kept at it. "Bad dog. Feet off my couch."

Altaïr laughed and managed to take the notebook. He leaned forward, smiling mischievously. "Woof."

Malik tried his best not to crack up, instead putting on a serious face and pointing at the ground. "Off."

The taller man rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out. "Fine. I'm gonna beat your ass with just a little less comfort."

"Whiny bastard," Malik grumped. He picked his controller up, settling back when the starting screen came on.

Although it was a bit of a challenge, there were a surprising number of games he could play just as easily, if not better, than a person with two. Sometimes it was frustrating playing with other people because they felt sorry for him and played like chumps; it was even worse when they thought he couldn't play video games to being with. That was one of the things he liked about Altaïr- he never went easy on him. It was nice to not be treated like he was helpless.

The bickering from Malik's end and joke-flirting from Altaïr quickly degenerated into the usual playful arguing off that accompanies playing video games. Sometime over the course of the marathon legs traveled back across Malik's lap, but by then he was too absorbed in the screen to do much about it.

About the fifth game in, they were pushing each other in an attempt to distract their foe into losing the final battle. Just as Malik got in front of Altaïr's line of sight and was ready to deliver the finishing blow, the TV went black.

His jaw dropped and the controller slipped from his hand. "What!? Fuck! No!"

Altaïr pushed him out of the way and saw the problem. "Well shit."

"Augh! I was so close! What the hell happened?" Malik rubbed his face in frustration. "Did we overheat the system or something? Shit!"

His friend looked around. "I don't think so," he said, blinking to get his eyes to adjust to the darkness faster. "I think it was a power-outage."

"Fucking storm. Move," Malik commanded as he stood. He shuffled into the kitchen a bit blindly, cursing when he hit his shin on the coffee table, and rummaged around one of the drawers. Altaïr, being the wise bum that he is, moved the table against the wall.

A crack of lightning suddenly lit up the apartment, accompanied by a deafening boom. He immediately sat on the floor, shoulders bunched up, and cursed. Malik returned with some candles and a lighter and snickered.

"What's the matter? Afraid of a little storm?" he mocked as he set the candles on the table.

Altaïr gazed puppy eyes up at Malik. "Yes. Hold me?"

"Ha. Not a chance."

He pouted and crossed his arms like a child. "Hmph. You're no fun."

Malik sat down across from him. "You're the one that came to _my_ house to play," he pointed out. Then he sighed. "Although, it looks like we won't be doing much of that until the power's back on."

Altaïr tapped his chin. "That's not true. We could do something else to pass the time."

"Like what?" Malik asked cautiously. _'It better not be some perverted thing. Knowing him, that's _exactly_ what he'd say.'_

"Truth or dare."

Malik blinked. "Oh. Um, okay." _'First time for everything, I suppose.'_

"Excellent!" Altaïr clapped his hands together. "Okay, you ask first."

Ignoring how childish it seemed, Malik played along. "Alright. Truth, or dare?"

"Hmmm. Truth."

Malik grinned. "What's the most embarrassing thing you've ever done?"

The other man made a face. "Really? Like I'd tell you that."

"Hey, you're the one that chose it." He wiggled his fingers at him. "Tell me all your secrets," he toned villainously.

"Okay, okay," Altaïr chuckled. "Ah, let's see. I'd have to say the most embarrassing thing would be… when my stepfather caught me watching porn. That was the most awkward half hour ever."

Malik suppressed a laugh. "Half an hour?"

Altaïr rolled his eyes. "Yeah. I had to argue my side! He thought it was sinful, and made me explain where I got it from. Then he gave me a 'birds and the bees' talk in excruciating detail." He shuddered.

Malik couldn't hold it in anymore. His adopted father (whom Altaïr called his stepdad, since he knew his real father before he died) was a very old, very strict, very religious Muslim man. Imagining him finding porn- particularly Altaïr's, as that must have been especially lewd- had the guy across from him cracking up.

"Ha ha, very funny. Yuk it up, Malik. It's my turn to pick your torture next. So what'll it be? Truth or dare?"

Malik wiped an eye, having laughed too hard. "Oh yeah, I'm so scared." _'Actually, I am. Who knows what the hell he'll make me say or do? He'll probably ask for me to say something dirty or tell him perverted secrets. Dammit, I can't tell him anything like that.'_

He bit his lip. _'Hmmm. If I pick dare, then he's almost guaranteed to make me do something pervy. But that's way better than talking dirty to him- or worse, telling him what I actually think of him.'_

"Chose something yet? Geez, don't hurt yourself thinking too hard."

Malik scrunched up his nose. "Shut up, ignoramus. I pick dare."

Without missing a beat, Altaïr replied: "I dare you to put sweet sauce all over your chest."

The other blinked. "Wait, what? What the hell kind of dare is that?"

"Are you saying you won't do it?"

"I...!" He sighed, hating his refusal to lose, especially to this bastard. "Fine. I'll do it."

Malik sauntered off to the kitchen and returned with a handful of sauce packets, the kind you'd get at a fast food restaurant. He sat back down on the floor and tossed the packets at his feet before grabbing the hem of his shirt. He fiddled with it for a moment. _'Am I really going to do this? This is so stupid! And weird! But... it is just a game... with a really hot douchebag... Dammit.'_

Malik steeled himself and threw off the garment in a practiced motion, exposing his bare skin. He was so wrapped up in his churning thoughts that he failed to notice how intently Altaïr was staring at him, studying him, or how he leaned forward just a bit, his lips turned into a subtle smirk.

Picking up one of the packets, Malik sighed. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he mumbled. He tore it open with his teeth and, leaning back, squeezed the sauce onto his chest. He shivered at the cool, slimy feeling as it slowly slid downwards. "Ugh. There. Happy?"

Altaïr's voice was low, but held even. "No. Use _all_ of them."

"What!? I-"

"Come on. One dinky little thing of sauce is hardly enough to be a dare."

"Fucking a." Malik frowned deeply. _'Okay, there is no way in hell I can do this one at a time.'_ He scooped up a handful of packets, ripped the tops off, bit his lip, and spread the condiments. He threw the wrappers down and leaned back on his arm in an attempt to stop the sauce from sliding more. It was an incredibly strange feeling, and he shut his eyes tight. He didn't want to see Altaïr's reaction, anyway. He was probably trying not to laugh his ass off.

So he was doubly surprised when a new, equally strange feeling was also on his chest. He cracked an eye open only to stare, wide-eyed, at the top of Altaïr's head. He was licking the sauce off in slow, dragging circles.

* * *

**ᴕȵ**

**BECOME ONE WITH MOTHER RUSSIA, DA?**


	2. Chapter 2

**It's been about a week, so I think I've tempted you guys enough. eve Here's that lemon chapter I promised! Dunno if I'm gonna continue past this, though. I only wrote out up to what you see here. If you'd like to see more of their lives after this, just review or inbox me, or give me some ideas. Of course, I'd be sprinkling nice little lemons into the plot. owo**

******Warnings: **Language, adult themes.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Assassin's Creed! If I did, no assassin would be straight. :)

* * *

_He cracked an eye open only to stare, wide-eyed, at the top of Altaïr's head. He was licking the sauce off in slow, dragging circles._

"Wh… hey- AH! Altaïr!" The man licked straight up from sternum to collar bone, looking very much like a cat. An incredibly sexy cat.

Malik reached his hand up, whether to push him away or yank him closer, he wasn't sure. Before he could do anything, though, he fell backwards, having lost his only means of balance. His head hit the floor and he groaned. Altaïr took advantage of the moment and swung his leg over the other, straddling him.

Malik rubbed his head. "What do you think you're doing!?"

Altaïr wiped his smiling mouth with his thumb, eyes smoldering. "You looked uncomfortable with all that sauce on you. I thought I'd help clean it." He leaned down, pinning Malik's good arm. "Besides, you taste delicious," he whispered, and punctuated this by licking his lips seductively.

Malik shivered. He was speechless, but when his friend went back to work licking clean his chest, a stifled moan escaped him. He was rapidly losing the will to fight back. What was he thinking? He should be stopping Altaïr, not letting him do whatever perverted thing he was doing with his tongue and oh god, it felt so _good_.

Altaïr began using his free arm to lightly trace up and down his abdomen and side, back and forth, before coming to rest with his thumb over a nipple. It made Malik bite his bottom lip and wish he'd do something with that damned thumb. Then a grim thought managed to break through the sudden horniness and his mood turned more sour than usual.

"Is this another one of your sick jokes?"

Abruptly Altaïr stopped and sat up. He stared down at Malik with a mix of confusion, seriousness, and a hint of hurt.

"What do you mean?" he asked, the slurry of emotions just barely hidden in his voice.

Malik's brow furrowed. "I mean, you're always sexually harassing me and shit. This one is going a little too far, don't you think?"

There was a brief moment of silence when Altaïr looked away. Malik propped himself up on his one arm to be even with him. The quiet stretched on seemingly forever until Altaïr appeared to have made up his mind.

"You know that porn that I told you my dad found?" he finally said with a sigh.

The question was seemed rather off-topic so it took a minute for Malik to process it. "Yeah…?"

"It… he was really, really furious with me." Altaïr looked at Malik through the corner of his eye. "Not just because it was porn, though. He gave me that talk… because it was gay porn."

Malik's elbow wobbled a little. '_That… explains a lot. But… is that why he always flirts with me? Or is it because he… likes me? If it's that… oh my god.'_ His thoughts were racing, but Altaïr continued on.

"You know, I think that's why he practically hated me," he humorlessly laughed. "Once he found out that his best friend's son was gay, that his own _adopted son_ was into guys…" He shook his head at the memory. "Yeah, he wasn't exactly sad to see me go to college."

"Altaïr…" Malik whispered softly.

He held up a hand to silence him. Altaïr didn't need pity; Malik already knew that his relationship with his father was tough. Hell, he spent more of his time at Malik's house than his own just to avoid the guy when they were in high school. But to see Altaïr open up like this… his eyes were glistening and he spoke so honestly, no jokes despite how he tried to make light of it. It was a rare sight, and a very little known side to the man.

"I'm not finished. There's something else I probably should have told you a long time ago, but I was too afraid..." He took a shaky breath.

Malik's heart was hammering. _'No way. This must be a dream. There's no way this is actually happening.'_

Altaïr looked him straight in the eyes. "In case it wasn't obvious, you're more than just a friend or brother to me, Malik. I am in love with you."

Now his heart was pounding in his ears. He didn't know what to say; he saw the conversation turning to this, knew it was coming, yet it was still a shock to hear it out loud. It brought to mind all the playful jokes over the years, how Ataïr would seem to find any excuse to be with him, how he constantly invaded his personal space to get as much physical contact as he could.

And then there was Malik's side: he couldn't deny that his mood significantly lifted whenever he was around, even if he pretended he was a burden. He smiled more, and actually laughed whole-heartedly- something very few people managed to accomplish, especially after losing his left arm and his brother Kadar in the car accident years ago. Altaïr was his main support at that time, too; he visited the hospital every day and helped ease his grief in the months that followed. He found it hard to say no to him, and indulged in his crazy antics. Regardless of his mood or behavior, Malik never pushed him and his friendship away.

Of course, there were also the dreams. He had been so ashamed; how could he be thinking of his _best friend_ in such a way? But he couldn't control the dreams, or stop himself from checking him out when he wasn't looking, and certainly the dirty thoughts tended to run wild. Despite what he said otherwise, he secretly didn't mind all that seemingly false flirting and innuendos about the two of them.

This man was undeniably central to his life.

However, it appeared his epiphany took longer than just a few seconds, because Altaïr began to get up, hurt evident on his face.

"Sorry," he rasped. Tears threatened to spill out of embarrassment and heartbreak, but he was very clearly holding them off with cold determination. "I probably just ruined everything. I didn't mean… Just forget I said anything. Sorry."

"Wait!" Malik grabbed his hand. Altaïr's gaze shot down at him. Malik licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry. "There's nothing to be sorry about. I… I love you, too."

He didn't particularly know what Altaïr's reaction would be, but the one he got was unexpected. He narrowed his eyes and pulled his hand free. "Don't try to make me feel better. I told you, just forget it."

Malik blinked in shock, but shook his head angrily and stood up as well. "I'm not! I'm being honest here!"

Altaïr's frown deepened. "I don't believe you."

'_This is not going well…'_ Malik gritted his teeth. "I'm serious, Altaïr. I love you. And up until now, I didn't think you'd love me back!" His anger was seeping into his words. _'This is unbelievable. He says he loves me, and then he rejects me. What the hell is it going to take to get him to believe me?'_

Altaïr crossed his arms. "That didn't sound very sincere."

Malik roughly grabbed the front of his shirt, fed up with this. "You asshole. I really do fucking love you." Then he leaned in and kissed him.

At first, Altaïr was frozen. But after a brief pause he quickly started kissing back, and dear lord, it was sweet. He uncrossed his arms to cup Malik's face, holding him tenderly. The kiss deepened, their tongues dancing together, tasting each other. Malik's hand released the fabric to trail up to the back of Altaïr's head, trying to bring them as close together as possible, before they had to stop to catch their breaths.

"Believe me… now?" Malik panted.

A small smile formed on Altaïr's now moist lips. "I may need… more convincing."

Malik chuckled and brought their lips together again. Altaïr's hands travelled to his neck and the small of his back. Lightly, he dragged his fingers along Malik's spine, causing him to shiver. He was reminded of his lack of shirt, and the reason for it in the first place.

Then it clicked. _'That bastard had planned on this! The truth or dare, the sauce… he probably knew the storm would knock out the power, too. Well two can play at this game.'_ He detached himself from the other's arms and walked back to the middle of the room, sitting down on the floor.

"Malik?" Altaïr sounded confused. Malik just looked up at him with a wry smile and gestured to his chest, spots of sauce still present.

"You didn't finish cleaning up your mess."

Cracking an uncharacteristically wide grin, Altaïr got down on his knees in front of Malik, who went back to leaning on his arm. Altaïr practically crawled up his body, licking the rest of the sauce away as he ventured up to Malik's pecks. His tongue darted out over a nipple, playing with it before capturing it in his mouth. Malik closed his eyes at the sensation, emitting a small sound and let Altaïr push him gently onto his back. Altaïr kissed up to his collar bone and grazed his teeth along his skin. When Malik squirmed, he knew he found his sweet spot. The man beneath him gasped and tangled his fingers in his hair as he marked him. It was a mix of pain and mostly pleasure, bringing a half-smile to Malik's lips.

Meawhile Altaïr's hands got busy roaming his body, eager to memorize every inch. He felt like he would melt under their touch, but he didn't want to give Altaïr the complete satisfaction of knowing just how much it affected him; better to keep some ground on this battlefield. When they got to his hips they followed the hem of his jeans and paused above the button. Altaïr came up to face Malik, question in his eyes. Even now, he was hesitating, making sure this was exactly what Malik wanted to do.

'_How sweet…'_

Malik leaned up and bit into the other's lip, relishing in the taste of his blood. "Quit teasing," he growled.

There was no verbal response, just a smirk and movement, and then his pants were suddenly at his knees, the bulge in his boxers now very evident. Taking the cue he grabbed the back of Altaïr's shirt and tugged it up. The man slipped out of it, then took off his borrowed sweats as Malik worked off his own pants and undergarments. He looked up to first see a naked Altaïr, which made all his blood rush to his groin. His fantasies did not do him justice: the man was nicely muscled, yet lean, his skin creamy chocolate and smooth, save for a few scars. His face was flushed and his erection was evident, but he kept on his calm and superior expression. Malik wanted nothing more than to change that.

His eyes travelled down Altaïr's body, as he was sure he was doing to him, and noticed something about the pile of clothes on the floor.

"Really?" His eyebrow quirked and he gestured at Altaïr's lack of underwear. "Do you always go commando when you borrow my clothes?"

Altaïr huffed as he descended once more on top of his prey. "So what if I do? I like the freedom."

"Hmm, I think I'd rather you be in something more," Malik mused, and ground his hips up to show exactly what he meant. It caused both of them to gasp.

"Will do," Altaïr whispered huskily. Malik soaked in this new voice, loving it. "But first…" His hand went down between their bodies and grasped both of their dicks together. He started a steady pump that got Malik to arch his back and moan.

"Altaïr…" It came out low and unsteady, almost unrecognizable from his usual aggrieved tone. He felt the other shudder above him. Apparently his voice had the same effect.

Lips found neck once more, and that tongue traced up to his ear, where he nibbled on the lobe. "Say that again," Altaïr murmured, breath hot and tingly on the wet skin.

Malik smirked and dug his fingers into the man's back. "Altaïr," he purred, and bucked into his grasp. The friction this created between their erections caused that hot breath to hitch, then groan. Malik basked in the newfound power over Altaïr and wondered how far it went.

Altaïr stopped him from finding out by pulling his hand away. Malik had to stop himself from mewling at the loss, and annoyance flashed across his face. But then three fingers went into Altaïr's mouth, and _damn_ if that wasn't the sexiest sight to behold; the way his tongue wrapped around the digits, then disappeared into that luscious mouth. Coupled with those lustful eyes staring right at him as he did it, making him burn up inside, Malik thought he'd cum right then and there.

'_Can't spoil that fun just yet,'_ he reminded himself. Needing to stop this blatant display of eroticism, he reached up, slipping the fingers from Altaïr's mouth to his own. He tasted himself and Altaïr, together, and he curiously ran his tongue around each finger.

The look on Altaïr's face was priceless; it went from mild shock to utter desire. "Damn…" he breathed, and then instinctually rutted down. Malik 'mph'ed, his expression showing pure pleasure, and the hand was suddenly gone.

"Hey," he whined. He had been really getting in to his task, and the heat and pressure of Altaïr on top of him only got him more excited.

Altaïr sounded uneven and a bit desperate. "Can't wait. Got any lube?"

'_Oh ho ho, and the mighty Altaïr is now under my control.'_ Malik smirked and nodded towards his room. "In the night stand. Top drawer."

Altaïr quickly got to his feet, making a face at how uncomfortable that was for his hard-on, and made his way to the bedroom. Malik considered waiting for him in the living room, but the thought of rug burn was enough to make him get up and follow suit.

Altaïr glanced over his shoulder at his approach. He waved the half-empty bottle accusingly.

Malik shrugged. "A guy's gotta masturbate." He sat on the bed, legs carelessly spread apart.

He hid his smile when he saw Altaïr's expression out of the corner of his eye. The game had changed. Now Malik had the chance to act out all those dirty fantasies he'd locked away; he was ready to get started as soon as possible. It seemed Altaïr, however, was under the illusion he'd be the one in control.

'_Ha!_' Malik mentally scoffed. _'We'll see who is in charge tonight. Top or bottom, it doesn't matter, Altaïr. I will be the one orchestrating the whole thing.'_

Altaïr put a healthy amount of lube on his fingers and crawled between Malik's legs. His tongue slipped into his partner's mouth then and he pulled Malik's right leg onto his shoulder. Malik winced at the sudden contortionist act and brought his other leg up, hooking them behind his back. He could feel the lubed hand prodding at his entrance and the touch vaguely reminded him of the sweet sauce. Malik shuddered at the memory and ran his fingers through Altaïr's short hair, urging him to go on.

He sighed as the first, then the second slipped in and started moving. After years of pleasuring himself in such a manner, and the occasional drunken fling, the intrusion wasn't uncomfortable. Having someone else do it was welcomed with open arms, especially Altaïr. The man clearly knew what he was doing. Although it was hard to tell whether it was from all the porn or actual experience, but at this point he couldn't care less. All he could focus on was how damn _good_ it felt.

"Mm, Altaïr," Malik hummed, his Adam's apple vibrating against his descending lips. "Give me more."

Altaïr paused at the slightly commanding tone. He was suspicious, but nonetheless, he added another finger and sunk his teeth where neck met shoulder. Malik squeezed with his legs, inhaling sharply. The feeling was wonderful, pain mixed with pleasure, and he struggled to not just let Altaïr ravage him relentlessly. He swore he was going to be the one holding the other at his mercy.

He tugged Altaïr's head up next to his and licked the shell of his ear. Taking a shuddering breath, he spoke: "That's nice… but I want even _more_."

To his satisfaction, the man groaned and readily complied. "God fucking dammit, Malik," he muttered as he removed his digits to align the prize. "When- ha- the hell did you get so lecherous?"

Malik moaned as he slowly entered him. "About the time- un- I first saw you topless, I'd say."

"Really?" Altaïr sounded amused. Purposefully he dragged back out, almost slower than when he entered. "Tell me more."

'_That son of a bitch,'_ Malik cursed inside his head. "Is now really- ah- the time for talking?"

The shit-eating grin was back; he could feel it against his cheek. Another painfully slow in. "Tell me what you like about me. What turns you on?"

Malik grit his teeth. _'You can't be fucking serious. I'm the one who should be doing this- not you!'_ But he knew if he wanted him to move… "Bastard. I can't believe this." He sighed almost regrettably. "Your stupid face when you smile." The speed picked up the tiniest amount.

Angrily, Malik began ticking off the things. "Your ass whenever you drop stuff, the way you ignore when you look like a mess like an idiot, how you always have the balance of a fucking- mh- cat, when you come out of a shower and you parade your damned body around- ah- half naked, the way you look when you- ha- fall asleep, when you're doing your f-flippy shit and don't give a- nn- fuck about gravity, how you c-couldn't care less what the world thought a-about any- hah- anybody, unh, and oh my fucking god, faster!"

Above him, Altaïr started increasing his thrusts, huffing. Malik was losing coherency and control, slipping away into the pleasure. Their lips met briefly, but they had to separate as they were panting heavily. Malik knew it was a response to what Altaïr had him do; it was a sign to tell him that he didn't have to finish with the sappy 'I love everything about you' line; he got the message, and he loved him back, so he was going to make him feel as good as he could.

The man was easily fulfilling that. He began pumping Malik in time with his thrusts while adjusting the position of his hips. Malik's head tipped back in a strangled cry as Altaïr found the magic spot. Stars danced across his vision and he gripped hard at his handhold.

His lover didn't seem to mind, though, for he whimpered out his name and his motions became erratic. The night's earlier activities had already excited them, so it was only a matter of time before both were gasping and clutching at each other, faces twisted in blissful orgasm.

After finally coming down from their high, Altaïr pulled out and collapsed next to Malik. They laid there for a solid five minutes with neither one of them speaking.

"I suppose that was pretty convincing," Altaïr sighed after a time. It earned him a punch in the shoulder. "Ow. What?" he asked, rubbing the spot though the punch hadn't really hurt.

"You're such an ass," Malik murmured, and brushed the man's cheek. He leaned in and gave a soft kiss on his lips, none of the previous passion in it, just gentle affection.

Altaïr smiled. "I love you, too."

"Yeah, yeah," came the response. He sat up and peered down at their sweaty bodies. "We should probably get cleaned up…"

"Take a shower in pitch darkness?" Altaïr pulled back, surprised. The power was still out, and would probably make it hard to even find anything. But then he thought more on the situation… "Yeah, I'm game. I've always wanted to have sex in the shower."

He jumped out of bed, running, as Malik attempted to beat him senseless.

* * *

**ᴕȵ**

**BECOME ONE WITH MOTHER RUSSIA, DA?**


End file.
